Chapter Text
Inoue Orihime had always believed that waiting in line was a metaphor for her life.
Just as she stood in this seemingly endless queue waiting for her turn, she was also waiting for good things to finally happen to her. And judging by how things were going right now, it seemed like she’d be waiting a while longer.
She tightened her grip on her burger-cover phone, her fingers ice-cold despite the warmth of the crowded hallway. The queue for the shinro soudan (career consultation) stretched along the corridor, a slow-moving parade of students and their parents. She watched as one mother leaned in to whisper aggressively to her son (definitely pushing for Todai), while another student was flipping through a university’s brochure like it held the meaning of life.
And Orihime? She had no one.
Well, technically, she had “distant relatives.” But so far, "distant" seemed to be their favourite personality trait. They’d said they would come, but the glaring absence of any concerned guardian standing beside her suggested otherwise.
If they didn’t show up, could she go in alone? Would they even let her?
Her thoughts began to spiral. Maybe she could pretend to be an independent, self-sufficient minor? Maybe she could disguise herself as a lost office intern? Or maybe she could just...vanish into the walls like a well-dressed ghost?
“Inoue.”
A voice interrupted her increasingly dramatic internal monologue, and she turned to see Ichigo Kurosaki standing beside her.
Cue heart malfunction. Ichigo had no business making her brain short-circuit on a regular basis, she thought indignantly. His effortlessly cool but protective aura, akin to those anime protagonists who acted like they didn’t care but would show up at 2 AM with a baseball bat if you needed them, made her heart flutter daily.
Despite his presence lighting her mood up, she felt embarrassed. She knew she looked pathetic; hunched in her chair, hugging her phone like a lifeline, looking exactly like a person who had no one but was trying very hard to pretend she was alright.
He leaned against the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. “You waiting for someone?” he asked, voice casual but eyes sharp.
Orihime hesitated. There was nothing to hide. Ichigo already knew she didn’t have a real family. But saying it out loud, acknowledging it in this moment, would make it heavy, making her look even more lonely and pathetic. And Orihime hated appearing pathetic, especially in front of him.
So, she did what she always did…deflected.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, waving vaguely at the empty space beside her. “They’re just...running a little late, my Aunt, I mean. Probably trapped in the Dangai. Happens all the time. Terrible traffic between the realms.”
Ichigo blinked. Then, to her absolute surprise, he grinned back.
“I see,” he said. “Alternative dimension problems. Been through them. It’s tough luck.”
Orihime felt her soul physically leave her body. This was so unfair. How did he make teasing sound like affection? She tried to reign in the heat that was rushing up her cheeks.
Before she could recover, Ichigo tilted his head toward the consultation room. “If you need someone to sit with you, I can go in.”, he murmured softly.
Her heart stopped. “Y-you w-what?”
“I mean, it’s not a rule that a guardian has to be blood-related, right?” Ichigo stated, matter-of-factly. “I can act like a responsible older brother or something.”
Older brother.
Orihime nearly choked. Not the label she wanted from him.
It was stupid. Ridiculous. Completely unnecessary. And yet, for the first time all day, her chest didn’t feel like it was collapsing in on itself.
Then— “Orihime…”
But it wasn’t the teacher calling her name. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in years. Steady, familiar, and very nostalgic. Orihime turned so fast she nearly lost her balance. And there he was.
Haruki Ichijou.
With his soft gray hair and piercing blue eyes, he stood out like a misplaced painting. Too refined, too ethereal, yet too impossible to be here. Although he was older than her, he didn’t look a day over eighteen.
Her breath hitched. It wasn’t her distant aunt, who barely acknowledged her existence. It wasn’t her uncle, who hadn’t contacted her in years. It was him. The last person she expected to see, yet the only person she was okay seeing. The one who had once pulled her back from the edge of insanity. The first person who felt like home after her world came crashing down at twelve.
Her first lifeline.
Orihime’s fingers tightened around the fabric of her skirt, as if grounding herself in reality.
“Haru…ki?” Orihime whispered in disbelief.
She blinked once, twice, half-expecting him to disappear, to dissolve into some cruel trick of her mind. But he didn’t. He stood there, just as real as the nervous students and overbearing parents surrounding them.
Her lips parted, her eyes softening, before a radiant smile took over her face.
“Haruki-kun,” she breathed, this time with a warmth unheard by Ichigo.
And then, she ran.
Without thinking, she bolted past Ichigo, nearly stumbling in her rush as she all but threw herself into Haruki’s arms. He caught her effortlessly, his arms wrapping around her in a vice-like grip, tight and unwavering. With a laugh, he lifted her off the ground, spinning her around like they were kids again. Orihime’s laughter rang through the hallway, startling parents and students alike. A few threw disapproving glances their way, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Haruki finally set her down, but his hands remained steady on her shoulders, as if to make sure she wouldn’t disappear. She too pressed down on her skirt, trying to compose herself, but the smile refused to leave her lips.
“Haruki-kun… it’s been so long. But why are you here?”
He grinned. “To be your guardian, of course.”
Orihime blinked. “You?”
“I’m an adult now, after all,” he said smugly, puffing out his chest before laughing. “Also, I practically begged Mom to let me come.” Orihime’s smile turned wistful. “It’s been almost three years, Haruki-kun. I almost thought you forgot me.”
Haruki’s expression shifted in an instant, as if the mere thought was absurd. “Forget you?” He looked downright offended. “How do you forget a girl who eats eggs with maple syrup and mustard?” Orihime gasped, frowning in indignation. “Hey—!”
“…And,” he continued, his voice turning softer, “who was my best friend when I needed one the most?”
His smile was gentle, gracious, unshaken by time, and the same one that had once saved her. And in that moment, the years between them no longer felt so long.
******
Orihime sat stiffly in front of the teacher’s desk, hands pressed between her knees, while Haruki Ichijou sat beside her—still trying to process everything. Across from them, Shimada-sensei adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable as he flipped through Orihime’s student file.
“Inoue-san,” the teacher finally said, his tone laced with both approval and disapproval in equal measure. “Your academic performance places you in the top fifteen students of your batch. That should put you in a strong position for university admissions and scholarships.”
Orihime exhaled in relief.
“But—”
Her relief died instantly.
“You have had an excessive number of absences over the past three years.” Shimada-sensei’s sharp gaze pinned her in place. “Enough that they could severely affect your chances of securing a good scholarship, or even getting into your first-choice university.”
Orihime pressed her lips together. She knew this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Haruki turned to her in surprise, frowning slightly. “Wait, why so many absences?”
She resisted the urge to shrink into her seat.
Shimada-sensei sighed, rubbing his temples. “What exactly was going on? You don’t seem like the type to skip classes for no reason.”
Haruki leaned forward, defensive despite his confusion. “She’s one of the best in her year, isn’t she? Shouldn’t that count for something?”
The teacher gave him an unimpressed look. “Good grades alone aren’t enough for universities that emphasise discipline and consistency, Haruki-san. Missing so many classes raises concerns. If she can’t commit to attending high school regularly, how will she handle university coursework?”
Haruki glanced at Orihime again, his frown deepening. His eyes held the same quiet, questioning concern she had seen countless times when they were younger, whenever he sensed something was wrong with her. Orihime felt his gaze directed at her, and didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to explain.
So, she did what she did best—deflected.
“Okay, but let’s talk about something more important,” she said quickly. “Like my university options.”
Shimada-sensei hummed along. “That depends. What field are you interested in?” Orihime brightened instantly. “Well, my top choices are either becoming a baker, a teacher, or an astronaut.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Haruki coughed, poorly stifling a laugh. Shimada-sensei simply stared at her with a deadpan expression.
“Excuse me?” the teacher finally said, his voice flat.
Orihime tilted her head, as if genuinely confused by his reaction. “What? Those are solid career choices.”
Shimada-sensei rubbed his temples again. “Inoue, be serious. You’re at a crucial point in your academic life. Things will only get tougher from here on, and you need to be realistic about your future.” Orihime’s smile didn’t falter, but something inside her deflated.
Shimada-sensei continued, his tone strict but not unkind. “You need to think about financial stability, the level of education required, and the opportunities available to you. I suggest narrowing your choices to something more practical.” Orihime nodded absentmindedly, but she wasn’t listening. She already knew what reality was like.
She had been facing it alone for years.
The moment they stepped out of the building, Haruki turned to her, his arms crossed and brows furrowed.
“Orihime,” he said, his voice laced with worry and quiet frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me about the absences? Or at least you could’ve talked to my mom. She could have helped.”
Orihime stilled. For a moment, she didn’t respond, biting her lip hard enough that she almost tasted blood. Tell him? Tell him what? That his mother, the woman who had taken her in out of obligation, had barely acknowledged her? That she had only given her financial help when she was practically shelterless and even then, only if her grades were high enough? That his mother was not the kind of guardian you turned to when you were in trouble? Especially when trouble involved getting kidnapped by overpowered Espadas?
Haruki still saw her as the girl from before. The helpless girl who had lost her brother when she was twelve, small, lost, and desperate for someone to pull her back from the abyss. But she had grown up just like he had. And she had tried to make the best of her life on her own.
So, for the first time, she felt a flicker of irritation toward him.
Before she could say anything, she caught movement ahead of them.
Ichigo Kurosaki was standing at the school entrance, arms crossed, his narrowed gaze locked onto Haruki. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to Orihime. And just like that, his expression softened, and he briskly walked towards her.
“Inoue….” He regarded her. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes!” Orihime replied cheerfully. “I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Haruki-kun, my aunt’s son. We have been quite close since my childhood. Moreso, after…you know? He just came back after finishing college.” Haruki bowed politely, murmuring pleasantries as he quietly observed Ichigo and Orihime. She looked unusually chirpy around him. Even when he had entered the hallway, she was cosily chatting him up. Was she in love…?”
No, it’s impossible. He knew that for sure.
*****
The cool evening air drifted through the school courtyard, carrying the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass and rain-soaked concrete. Orihime sat on the stone ledge by the vending machine, idly rolling an unopened juice can between her hands, while Ichigo leaned against the wall beside her, his arms crossed.
Haruki had just disappeared to take a phone call. Probably to discuss something with her aunt, but Orihime didn’t bother questioning it.
“Wasn’t expecting you to be so chummy with him,” Ichigo muttered, breaking the silence.
Orihime glanced up at him. His tone was casual, but the way his gaze lingered on the path Haruki had taken told her otherwise. She hesitated, then sighed, tapping the can against her knee. “We’ve known each other since… forever, I guess.”
Ichigo raised a brow. “Forever?”
She huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. I don’t even remember the first time I met him—I was probably four or five. My brother knew his mother. Worked for her business, actually.” Ichigo’s posture straightened slightly; his interest piqued.
“They weren’t family, not by blood,” Orihime clarified, looking down at the condensation forming on the can. “But my brother worked for her company for years, so there was this… trust, I guess? I used to visit Haruki’s house a lot when I was a kid. Back then, they lived in our town, in my neighbourhood.”
Ichigo didn’t interrupt, just nodded along.
“Haruki-kun is four years older than me. When I was nine, his family moved to Nishinoya Town, about a hundred kilometres away. We didn’t see each other as much after that, but we kept in touch—letters, landline calls, that kind of thing. He was always just there, somewhere, even if we weren’t in the same place.”
For a moment, her eyes softened, reminiscing about the memory. Then she inhaled deeply, bracing herself for the hard part. “And then, when I was twelve, my brother died.” Ichigo didn’t speak, but she felt the slight shift in the air beside her. “My brother’s closest people at that time were the aunt and her husband, so I was sent to live with them,” she continued, forcing her voice to stay light. “They got temporary custody of me, and I lived with them for about a year.”
She smiled, but there was no real warmth in it.
“Living with them… was….” Orihime exhaled slowly, tapping her nails against the juice can. “At first, they were okay. Kind, even. But after a while, my aunt just… stopped acknowledging me. She wasn’t mean, just absent. It was like I became part of the furniture.” She didn’t mention her uncle. Didn’t mention the way he drank himself into a stupor almost every night, nor the way his gaze lingered on her body too long and too often for her liking.
She swallowed hard, pushing that thought away. “I preferred it that way, honestly,” she spoke nonchalantly, as if none of it pained her anymore. Ichigo’s expression turned even more sombre, but he didn’t speak.
“Haruki-kun was the only one who cared back then,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I was twelve, he was sixteen. He was my only safe place. He held me when I cried, played games with me, talked to me about food, sports, anime, honestly, anything to distract me from… everything else.”
A nostalgic smile ghosted across her lips. “At some point, we stopped imagining a life without each other.” Ichigo shifted slightly, his arms still crossed, but his gaze had softened. “He was my first love, in a way,” she admitted, barely above a whisper. “Not in the romantic sense. But he was the first person who made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone.”
She let the words settle between them for a moment before continuing.
“But then I turned thirteen,” she said, her voice gaining unusual lightness that is generally not associated with such a melancholic plight. “And my aunt sent me back. She said that I could stay in my hometown again, on the condition that she’d send me money.” She shrugged as if it were nothing. “Maybe she just got tired of seeing my face.” Ichigo exhaled sharply. He knew life wasn’t rainbows and sunshine for Orihime, but this was beyond unfortunate. Poor Inoue, how much has she been through? he thought woefully.
“That was the end of my time with the Ichijous,” Orihime concluded. “Soon, I started my eighth grade, met Tatsuki-chan, and moved on. Haruki-kun left for some fancy university abroad next year, when I joined high school. We wrote to each other for a while, but you know… life happened. Communication dwindled.”
She laughed lightly. “So yeah, I was surprised to see him here today. But happy.”
Ichigo nodded grimly, while giving her a painfully empathetic look that made her feel a little exposed. She averted her gaze towards his fingers, which were curled tightly against the can of juice. A tiny tell, one she had learned to recognise over time.
“Oh-d-don’t look so bothered, Kurosaki-kun! It’s all in the past now. And my time there was not so bad at all!”, she said, as she tried to assuage his worries. She really should have thought twice before telling him this. After all, she did not wish to make him feel bad for her.
“You say it like it’s just… a thing that happened. Like it wasn’t a big deal.” His eyes searched her face, concern flickering his brown eyes “But it was.” Orihime felt her heart squeeze uncomfortably.
She looked away, forcing a grin. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s fine now. Really.”
He didn’t look convinced.
Before he could say anything else, they heard footsteps approaching. Haruki was back, hint of cigarettes lingering on his clothes. “Orihime, I just had a call with Mom. I think you need some company here. I will stay here for a while, okay? So, it will be you and me, just like the old times.” He gave a half-grin.
Orihime raised her eyebrows at this. Although she had previously enjoyed Haruki’s company as a young girl, but she was not too sure about him living with her now. Things had changed, and magical powers were not exactly easy to hide when cohabiting with someone.
“Umm…Is it necessary?”, Orihime started, but Haruki quickly cut her off. “Orihime, you need an elder’s guidance with colleges and academics. I know that I could not assist you in past three years due to being abroad, but this is important, and I want to help you with scholarships and college application at such a crucial time. After all, you are only 3 months from graduating. Am I in the wrong, Orihime?” he countered emphatically.
Despite her hesitation, Orihime couldn’t bring herself to argue with him. With graduation looming, she had yet to take any concrete steps toward her future.
“Why- I mean, I won’t be bothering auntie, right?”, she backtracked on her original stance. He shrugged. “Nah, I told Mom you needed some career counselling. We’ll make sure you get into a good college. While I have the time, I want to help you sort this mess out. I will leave when my training begins at my new company in Tokyo.”
Ichigo stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, listening as Ichijou casually announced he’d be living with Orihime.
Living. With. Her.
His brows twitched. Where, exactly? Her place was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. Was he planning to crash on the balcony? Didn’t he realize personal space was a thing?
He glanced at Orihime, expecting an argument, but she just looked… hesitant. Not exactly rejecting the idea. But then, that’s how she was. She couldn’t even say no to those troublemakers, Rangiku and Toushiro, after all. Haruki was still her family, in a way, he thought.
Ichigo’s gaze once again flicked over him, unimpressed. Did this guy even have a concrete plan or was he going to wing it like his impromptu stay? But then again…in his honest opinion, Orihime did need guidance. Scatterbrained genius that she was, she’d probably forget to apply for college until the day before deadlines.
Still. That weird feeling in his chest? Just a concern. Nothing else.…Right?
He exhaled sharply and looked away, feigning disinterest.
Tch. Whatever. He’d let this play out. For now.